War of the Combat Triangle
by Advanced45
Summary: The three combat styles lived together in peace. However, as tensions arise over the abilities of each group, a suspenseful war breaks out to see who could finally conquer the Combat Triangle.
1. Introduction

**War of the Combat Triangle  
**By Advanced45

The tribes of the three combat styles – melee, magic, and ranged – lived in peace. It had been so since the God Wars in the late Third Age. It was now year 169 of the Fifth Age, and tension was mounting. Each tribe was steadily becoming aware of their advantages against the others – Rangers' endless waves of arrows, darts, knives, and bolts easily penetrated the Mages' cloth-woven robes, while their powerful spells had no effect on the Rangers' armor of dragon's hide. However, the spells were amplified against the tough metallic of the Melee'ers. Dragonhide gave no protection against the Melee'ers strong weapons, and the armor of metal prevented any projectile from harming the wearer. This series of advantages and disadvantages was known as the Combat Triangle, and this is the war waged over the Triangle's superior.


	2. Beginning of the End

"Sir! I have top-secret, god-freaking, triple-A information! The scouts within the Mage's Guild have discovered some very disturbing news."

"Well, what is it, Rillak?" said Lord Bardur of the Melee Regime.

"Honored Mage historians have reason to believe," General Rillak said, "that mystical robes of incalculable power are hidden somewhere in RuneScape."

"World domination, ultimate power, I've heard it all before. What's so special about these robes? Make it quick."

"Well, sir…they date back to the Third Age. These robes were used in the God Wars!"

"WHAT?! The God Wars?! If they get a hold of those robes, there's no telling how fast our soldiers will fall to their might!"

"Sir. There's more. Magic robes aren't the only items of the age when the Gods walked among us."

"Yes, Rillak? What else could there be?" Bardur was confused beyond belief.

"Ranged armor of the now-extinct White Dragon and Melee armor crafted from a similar metal."

"Aha! This is amazing news. We must alert the Regime. Gather our finest warriors, assassins, rouges, and everyone else. We are going to get that armor. With it, all will tremble!"

"Yes, sir!"

The Regime's greatest soldiers were called to the Palace. They were not told why – just that the reward would be beyond anyone's wildest dreams. The soldiers were thrown in a deep chasm and commanded by Bardur himself to kill one another until one man stood victorious. After the long and grueling battle, the pit was stained with think blood. One man was left alive; Sergeant Rewdhrim, clad in shiny runite.

"Congratulations, Rewdhrim! You are the winner. You have the extreme honor that even the most accomplished Warrior has never had!" said Bardur's booming voice. "You are going to find the ancient armor made from the rare White metal. You will bring it back here, and we will destroy the Mages and Rangers!"

"No ounce of energy shall be spared in my noble quest! I shall return in this armor and lead the Regime to victory!" Rewdhrim yelled back.

"Your journey starts at the bank – the scroll we found has been deposited into your account. May the Warrior Spirit be with you!" The tournament ended as Rewdhrim marched out of the arena, wondering how Bardur got into his account with as strange a bank PIN as he had.

"Sir…do you really think he has any chance at all of finding this armor? The scroll could possibly lead to a different treasure altogether." Rillak whispered, cautiously.

"He is capable – I saw it in his unique fighting style. The way he rushed Captains and Generals that clearly have much more experience than him with his dagger, the rate at which soldiers fell to his dragon scimitar – he certainly is capable of finding the armor. I'm only worried about the chance of him bumping into the Mage or Range scouts…"

"Sir…perhaps you should know this. The Mage scout has already k…"


	3. An Act of War

A flash of green light was followed by a huge explosion. When the dust and smoke had settled, there was an enormous crater replacing the bloody pit of battle, as if a piece of the Earth had been ripped out of the ground. Bardur got up, just in time to throw a poisoned dragon dagger at a mysterious entity on the outer wall. The shape disappeared just before the blade pierced the outline. He turned and looked down – Rillak was dead.

"Mages. They knew he knew what he seemed to know…but what is it he knew? I only have a 'K' and 'Mage scout' to work with here…Nonetheless, this is a straight up act of war. Rillak was killed by a mage right in front of me. This…this is WAR!!"

The day after, Bardur gathered the citizens of the Regime in the courthouse.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Melee Regime!" yelled Bardur's voice, "General Rillak was murdered yesterday, and by a Mage assassin!" The entire crowd gasped in shock. "So, as this is a straightforward act of war, I hereby declare it. The Mage Guild and Melee Regime are at war!

"We, as in the High Council and I, have planned an attack on the Mage base of Ourania, which should cut off their rune supply dramatically. Just before that, though, a small army will attack another of their bases. This will cause them to draw their attention away from Ourania and to their secondary base. The army is already complete – we leave at sundown."

The crowd cheered loudly as Bardur strutted back into the Palace. Just then, without warning, a shape appeared right behind Bardur. It looked to the audience as if the assassin would meet his mark this time. Bardur noticed the sudden silence and loud gasps just in time to hear a muffled yell - "Secteri Ro!" – And ducked. A small skull flew through the air, contacting the wall of the courthouse. The huge, steel building collapsed not long after, and everyone got out safely. Bardur had tons of things running through his head, and a single word came to him as he stood up – Rillak.

He ran like lightning to the room where Rillak was being kept and studied, but he wasn't there. Rillak had disappeared!

By now, Bardur was panicking. Rillak had escaped to who-knows-where, the Mages knew of their plan to overthrow Ourania, and, most of all, he was a wanted man – and not in that good sort of way. One good thing is that he knew of a spell that could make a whole building of reinforced steel cave in. He knew of "Secteri Ro."


	4. The Mages' Guild

Sage Ofrak of the Mages' Guild sat in his throne of elven crystal, however uneasy. The assassin hadn't returned from his mission to kill Lord Bardur, and he was wondering if he had succeeded. He was suddenly startled by a figure appearing in his throne room.

"Why, hello, Klinrun. I see your staff is in need for recharging."

"Yes, it seems that it isn't as useful as first supposed. Anyway, my murder attempt at Lord Bardur didn't go as planned." Klinrun replied.

"No matter. Have you any other information for me?"

"Yes, actually. The Regime has hatched a plan to overthrow and destroy our sacred altar of Ourania." He said, rather matter-of-factly.

"But our forces are too strong there! How could they possibly expect to be able to succeed at taking over Ourania?"

"True. Very true. But they're going to distract us by sending a small team to our Air Altar so that we would relocate the bulk of our forces."

"The Air Altar? If they attack there the most important of all the runes' supply will be destroyed! We must send teams to the Altar."

"But, Sage! If we leave Ourania unprotected, we will be unable to craft Soul and Blood runes!"

"This is quite a predicament. While I think on it, how's 'the patient' doing?"

"Ah, yes. 'Him.' I was able to kidnap him from the study room while the building was collapsing and everyone was in wild panic. He's currently in the infirmary."

"Good, good. Now leave me, Klinrun. I must think of what to do in the case of our Altars…"

'The patient' was lying on a large, metal sheet of fine adamantite. As he woke, the room seemed to spin, lights flashed, and most of all, a strange knowledge filled his mind. He no longer knew of the final resting point of Edgeville. He completely forgot of the Digsite and its futile efforts of discovering a Saradominist city. The forgotten outpost of the Werewolves was left out, too. Other than that, awkward words ran through his head – Kharyrll, Senntisten, Padewwa, Ghorrock, Dreeyak…


	5. Battle of Ourania

"My Lord!" General Runhrad barged through the marble doors. "My Lord! The Ourania army is ready to go."

"Perfect, Runhrad. How many do we have?" Bardur said back.

"A good 500 warriors, sir. Enough to overwhelm the remaining Mage forces at Ourania and the Air Altar both."

"Good job, Runhrad. You're truly a trustworthy warrior…That is why I'm taking you with me to the battle."

"I'm honored, my Lord."

"Yes, well. Is the Air Altar still intact?"

"The soldiers are holding up against the Mages, but we're still losing them rather quickly."

"It doesn't matter. We must get to Ourania and destroy it before the Mages suspect anything. Let's ride!!"

Lord Bardur and General Runhrad led the army to the sacred Ourania Altar. The entrance was deserted – no Mage was visible. The soldiers became anxious, yet slowly advanced toward the Altar. Right before they came within sight of the glowing rock, a soldier was tipped off his horse and fell. A well-aimed arrow finished him off.

That's right – arrow.  
The Rangers were here! They ruthlessly attacked every Melee'er there, and only a few hundred survived to make it to the Altar. By that time, the Rangers had backed away into the shadows of the trees.

The silence didn't last long, though. They soon returned with an enormous army of Mages! It seemed as if the warriors were cornered with no escape. Then, just then, something happened. Something that no one had ever thought could happen. Bardur chanted the spell he memorized and sent berserk skulls into the oncoming onslaught. A good number of the opposition was eliminated! The spell was much more powerful than Bardur first thought.

Noticing they were still in danger, the Melee'ers hurriedly banged on the Altar with hammers, swords, shields, and everything else in their disposal. There was nothing left of the Altar except a few pebbles. The warriors had won!

However, their victory was short-lived. A single Mage rose above all else, with the strangest staff in his hand. He yelled loudly a spell none could comprehend, and the Melee'ers, all of them…froze on the spot.

The Mage sent millions of other spells at the crowd of frozen warriors – those who survived felt their blood ripped right out of their bodies, they couldn't see at all, they felt sick to the stomach.

Bardur had enough. He pulled out his dragon battleaxe and roared with all his might. He charged through the remaining soldiers and into the army of Mages and Rangers. Arrows nor spells stopped him. As he came into the clearing where the Mage was assaulting his warriors, he looked up, and saw a strangely familiar face.


	6. The Message

He didn't have time to think of who it was, though. Bardur single-handedly devastated half the army that opposed his. Rangers and Mages were felled this way and that. The other half was wiped out also by his army – the freezing effect had worn off. Melee'ers succeeded in destroying Ourania. The Air Altar wasn't that successful, though. The Mage defense was able to ward off the attackers.

Back in his throne room, Bardur thought hard about who the Mage was. Perhaps it was the assassin? Or maybe the Sage of the Mages' Guild?

He was soon interrupted.

"Lord! I bear a message from the scout we sent for the Third Age armor!"

"Bring it here, Private!" Bardur commanded. He snatched the scroll and read it. His eyes widened and he re-read it over and over again.

"This…this is impossible…"

_Mages got robes. Range scout dead. __Armor unavailable__._

Bardur's heart sank.

"The Mages already have their robes…they killed the Ranger scout…"

"Lord Bardur…there's more." The Private said. "Flip it over. I don't know what he means by it..."

_Mages somehow converting Rangers and Melee'ers into Mages. **Exercise extreme caution**._

"That…that makes sense. Almost too much sense…" Bardur murmured.

Private was confused. "Sir, what do you mean?"

"The Mage at Ourania. He looked familiar to me."

"Why is that so significant, Lord?"

"He was Rillak."


	7. The Ranged Sect

Master Tern, leader of the Ranged Sect, was disturbed. He had received a similar message to that of the one Bardur had read. Their scout had been killed by the Mage scout and that the robes had been recovered. It said nothing about the White dragonhide, though. There was still a chance for that…He had to search for the hide himself. There was no other way. No other one he could trust…

He departed from the Range Castle at daybreak, with his black dragonhide, his trusty elven crystal bow, and a few Agility potions to quicken his keen Ranger reflexes. The trees seemed to form a tunnel for him in the first few hours of his journey – something didn't seem right.

"Alwight, ya'll!" said General Hwrain in his natural drunken accent. "Mashtah Tewn left me in contwol, so all ya'll'd bettah lishten up! Tewn hash gone to look fer da Wanged awmow himshelf."  
Nobody liked Hwrain, mainly because nobody could understand him half the time. And when they could, he talked nonsense. He's kind of like that kid shunned from all the social groups all through grade school and part of high school, if you can relate to that. The thing about him is that he possesses amazing talent with a bow and arrow, which is why he was made General, even when nobody liked him.  
"Da owiginal shcout wash killed by da Mage schout, and dere'sh no odda one he can twusht at da moment."

Tern very soon saw the most disturbing sight he'd ever seen. The Melee scout lying in the middle of the trail, no signs of assault or anything. Tern checked his pulse – and he had none. The scout was dead!

Tern knew this was the work of the Mage. He is the only one who had the ability to kill someone and leave no marks. And, right now, he had the robes. What he couldn't figure out is why the scout couldn't find the armor. He sent the message to both kingdoms, and it was certainly his handwriting, so he must have done it before he was killed.

There was only one solution. The Mage found the robes and then tele-grabbed the armor, later killing the Melee scout. It was the obvious and only way this could have happened. Tern wondered if Bardur knew about this yet…

He had to kill the Mage scout and take the robes. He had to keep them safe from anyone who could use them to cause any harm to the balance of RuneScape. He HAD to!


	8. The New Scouts

Ofrak slammed his fragile fist on the arm of his crystal throne.

"Curse them! Curse them all! How could we be so blind to Bardur's power!"

"Sage, sir. We kept the Air altar." Klinrun said.

"I know, but Ourania! It was our most treasured Altar, the only way we could craft Soul and Blood runes!"

"Sir, you're overreacting. I bear news that could cheer you up." Klinrun spoke as if he was Ofrak's 200-year-old mother trying to reassure him.

"How could anything distract me from Ourania! I'll listen, anyway…" He said, almost depressed.

"Our scout – Dowr – has found the robes of Third Age origin!"

"Oh dear God! Forget Ourania, this is wonderful news! Klinrun, I thank you for this knowledge, but I need a favor of you. It is of the utmost importance."

"Sage, I will do as you ask, no matter the task."

"I need you to kill Master Tern. I have received word that he has set out for the dragonhide himself in place of his scout." The moment he stopped talking, the marble double doors blasted open, and Sergeant Frovtin walked in, shining in white and gold mystic robes.

"Sage! Ofrak! I must speak to you now!" Frovtin yelled.

"Frovtin! How nice to see my marble doors swung open so quickly. I see you've been practicing your battle spells?" Ofrak replies, quickly.

"Yes, yes, very good, all that power junk. The information I have recently been told is secret beyond comprehension – Klinrun must leave. Now." Frovtin commanded Klinrun out of the throne room. "Sage, Tern has killed our scout. He has the God War robes."

"Frovtin. You timed this perfectly. Klinrun just told me that our scout had located the robes, and now you say the Rangers have them and Dowr is dead. Great…"

"I apologize, Sage, but it is what it is. Tern has both the armor and the robes, as Dowr had both when Tern killed him. We need to replace the scout."

"Yes, Frovtin. I must go. I will get those robes…if it is the last thing I do…in my 120-year life…" Ofrak got up slowly, slung his Magic skillcape over his shoulders, afterwards hiding his gray-bearded face with the hood. The shiny marble doors were closed but minutes later.

* * *

Lord Bardur was pacing in the dungeon of his palace. The floor was just about worn out from his dragon boots sliding across the tiles. Hours later, he reached a decision. He will take Rewdhrim's place! He will return in the last minute, and heroically save the Regime from destruction! Yes, that would severely improve his popularity…  
And so it was done.


	9. The Triangle's Wrath

The road was long, as certainly less-traveled. Apparently only Rewdhrim had walked along this trail, as vines crept in from all sides, a few of them with machete marks in them from where he made space to get past. Not too long into his journey, there was an unusually large pile of leaves taking up the entire width of the path. There was no reason for there to be an obvious trap at this point, and Bardur tossed a nearby stick onto the leaves. Of course, the trap was revealed and a huge, gaping hole was left there. This must be the work of the Rangers – they are the only ones agile enough to leap over a gap this big. Despite this fact, Bardur barely made it across. He felt exhausted after this feat, and laid down to rest…only to find a lump in the ground where his head lay. As he rose, an "X" appeared where his head was that wasn't there when he had laid down. This was just way too easy, he thought. Surely there wouldn't be a marker where a God Wars item was buried! Nonetheless, his spade was nearly rusted and useless when he found what was left there.

"Dear God.  
The White dragonhide!"

By now, Bardur was beyond paranoia. There was ABSOLUTELY no way the dragonhide would be this easy to locate and dig up. Either it's fake, the armies of the Gods were stupid beyond belief, or there was a reason for the marking. Moments later, after thinking his feeble warrior mind to its limits, it came to him.

The Mage had spotted the Range scout staring at that very point in the trail, and attacked him. The scout, under heavy fire, marked the spot with an arrow, and covered an area close to it with leaves. However disgruntled after his victory, the Mage fell for the classic leaf trap, thinking the dragonhide was underneath. So, Frovtin was wrong – Tern hadn't killed the scout, the scout did!

The robes and armor were therefore dropped by the Mage, which Tern later found and took back to the Castle…

Bardur had finally figured it out. Tern, the Rangers, had both the armor and robes, he had the 'hide, while the Mages had nothing. He was determined to make sure it stayed that way.


	10. Unbalanced Forces

It was unlikely such an event would have happened during such a fragile time, but it did. While Tern had both the robes and armor, Bardur had the 'hide, Ofrak, in every meaning of the word, was distressed.

It had been days since the honored Sage had departed from his humble home, and he had already started to return. On his way back, his 120 years of life had almost ended. At a strange intersection he hadn't noticed the first time around, an unmistakable figure appeared. At first, it was nothing but a shadow was in his way. But, as time progressed, the figure's slow movement and metallic appearance proved to be the one and only Bardur.

He was dodging Ofrak's most powerful spells – only occasionally getting hit by a smoke blitz or two – yet was wounded. Not severely, but just enough to not be in touch with is senses. This near-death encounter had left him shaken, as Ofrak had given up after a burning treasure was gained.

Bardur returned almost unscathed to the Regime, and only then had he checked his pack. It seemed as though a great weight was lifted, though perhaps it was just one of Ofrak's simple mind tricks—

The dragonhide was gone.

Bardur couldn't believe it. In his state of panic, Ofrak snagged the 'hide from his pack. Curse his telegrabbing spell! He wouldn't stand for this. He had to have a trophy of battle to prove his bravery, his skill; his power. He had to set out on a quest similar in no way to the one he had just embarked on. The Sect housed both the robes along with the armor, and the Mages held the dragonhide. Things were not working out as planned…

* * *

Much, much later, after many long hours of negotiating, he got into the Ranged Sect. Even Tern had no suspicions to what he was planning. All he had to do was to get into the Sect Vault, and he would basically be home free. He would have his trophy.

Sitting at Tern's table, the Master of the Regime was nothing short of uneasy. This, Tern noticed. He was sure something was up, but not quite what. Bardur had no ready access to the Vault, unless...

Noise. Blaring, shouting, screaming noise. A breach in the Vault was nothing but evident. Tern was right – Bardur was stealing the armor. He had to already be far enough to have evaded the tower-defenders, or the sirens would have stopped, signaling victory. Yet they still sounded with deafening power.

Bardur ran full-speed from his chasers, despite the fact he was being weighed down by an incalculable weight. No arrow had pierced his sturdy armor – and it was this that disturbed him. Again, this was WAY too easy.

He was welcomed back at his Regime minutes later.

Another disappointment.


	11. The Battle Begins

And so it was that the three combat styles ended up with worse than they had started with. Bardur's mission had failed completely, Tern had disappointed his Sect, and Ofrak failed to defeat Bardur, even though their meeting was an accident. Fate and Destiny had been carefully interwoven by the denizens of the Triangles' actions to reveal the worst possible situation for each of the armies, and at the same time showed the most promise for all three. Bardur, Tern, and Ofrak sat in their respective thrones, and thought of what their next dramatic move would be.

Tern was left with the hardy armor that Bardur had attempted to steal, but swiped the robes in the midst of the panic.

Ofrak had almost suffered a heart attack stealing the dragonhide from Bardur.

And Bardur embarrassed himself yet again by accidentally stealing the robes from the Sect Vault.

Each region of Runescape had ended up with the opposite set of Third Age clothing. The Warriors had the robes, the Rangers held the armor, and the Mages had the dragonhide. All three were a threat to another, as (for an example, Mages could easily take the robes from the Warriors) they held the clothing of the combat style they were weak against.

Bardur had planned the night of his and all his subjects' lives. They were to attack the Ranged Sect at sunrise. The trail was effortlessly mapped in his mind: they were to march to Camelot and Seers' Village to set up temporary camp and not-so-temporary military bases, afterwards continuing on to the Sect's heart and soul – the Range Guild.

Unfortunately for him, both the Rangers and Mages had planned the same thing. Tern was to lead his army to take over Camelot and set up camp there, and the next day to defeat the Mages. No one knew why, though, for Camelot was many miles away from the Guild, and even further from Ofrak and the 'hide.

Ofrak planned the same. If he could control a territory as far into the enemy lines as Camelot, they would surely be able to conquer the Regime just north of Burthrope.

* * *

Lord Bardur sat in his throne room, but not on the throne. He sat on the polished tile floor, chanting "Secteri Ro," because he anticipated he very well might have to use its destructive power. No music was being played by his metal-clad choir, as even they are suited up to battle. Only Bardur was in the room, and ready to storm off on his steed to Camelot, leading the thundering herd of bloodthirsty animals known as the Melee Regime. He was especially prepared to meet what used to be his General for the second time since what the Regime calls "The Project."

Slowly and somewhat cautiously, the large marble doors creaked open, and in entered the new General Guthan. Guthan, as he was known for, was clad in his own custom armor – a large warspear being his weapon of choice. He was followed by Generals Torag, Dharok, and Verac. Each of them was special in their own way, wearing armor worn by no other human being.

"My Lord," started Guthan, "we have the tablets ready. Every citizen of the Regime is prepared for the battles ahead."

"Very good, Guthan." Was the blank reply from the emotionless Bardur. "Hand me a tablet and we'll be off."

Guthan gave Bardur, Torag, Verac, and Dharok all little squares of clay, with bright, glittering lines drawn across them. Bardur led them out of the room and into the newly-rebuilt coliseum full of soldiers ready for battle.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Melee Regime!" boomed Bardur's voice. As he spoke, a mild feeling of Déjà vu arose in him. "We are now prepared to ride to Camelot. From there we will rest for a single night and continue our trek to the Range Guild. Once we burn that cursed place to the ground and take the armor, we can study and hopefully smith it. With the armor of the Gods, we can defeat the Mages, too! Now, mount your horses!" There was a quick rustle as everyone jumped onto the saddles prepared for them.

Bardur and his Generals leaped flawlessly from the ledge they were on and onto the horses prepared for them. Bardur in front, Generals right behind him, the entirety of the Regime set off for Camelot. Just as they cleared the gate between the Regime and Burthrope, a cry of battle was heard:

"Tonight…we dine…at Camelot!!"

* * *

Sage Ofrak, cradling his beloved Magic skillcape, called in General Ahrim. Ahrim didn't even need the shiny marble doors; he just appeared right behind Ofrak. Without moving a muscle, Ofrak knew of Ahrim's silent entrance.

"I see you are making progress on your precision teleporting. This is good; only a chosen few can even teleport a foot away. Where did you come from?" Ofrak said, mildly impressed.

"I came from the forest, Sage. I was trying to teleport on top of trees and stand on a single leaf atop such. It was then that I received your message." Ahrim replied.

"The time nears. Our quest to Camelot, if not met by exceedingly strong resistance, will give us a base deep into enemy territory. We could easily defeat both the Warriors and Rangers then."

"Very good. When will we leave?"

"I was just getting ready. Where is Subject-001?"

"He is waiting outside. No malfunctions such far."

"Let us go, then." With that, the two master-Mages left the throne room. Subject-001 was, as Ahrim had stated, waiting outside. He was as ready as humanly possible – dark red and black mystic robes and his signature staff with the strange mark on the top. After all this time, the top Mage scientists still couldn't figure out why the staff appeared in the patient's hand when he was completed. The only hint they have is that they know the staff is infinitely old. Beside him was the captor, General Klinrun. Subject-001 spoke, with the same booming voice as Bardur, only the Subject's was magically-enhanced.

"Humble citizens of the Mage Guild! The preparations are complete – our conquest of Camelot will continue as planned." A roar came from the cloth-wearing audience. Hands, staves, books, and runes were held high. "Teleport to Camelot!" Millions of crowd members, quickly enveloped in a cloud of light, made their way through dimensions of all sorts on their interstellar journey to the ending point of Camelot.

* * *

Master Tern broke another record on the Agility course. This time, he only took 1 minute and 54 seconds to complete half the course. Obviously, he hadn't set the record for the full course yet. General Hwrain was quite amused at this, for it was he who took 2 minutes and 36 seconds to complete the whole thing.

"I am surprised you don't have an Agility skillcape, Hwrain. Why won't you get that one last Agility level? I would certainly hold you in high regard if you got the cape." Said Tern, marveling at Hwrain's abilities.

"I don't want to. If I wash to get deh shkillcaype, I wood haf to give up mah poshishion of General ash well ash haf to weeve yoo." Replied Hwrain. "By deh way, Tewn, wen awe we going to weeve fow Camelawt?"

"As soon as Karil is done repairing his armor. Then, we can…ah here he is! Karil, I am pleased to see you made your journey safely."

"Why, hello, Master Tern. I am glad to finally meet you." Said General Karil. Karil was a missionary from the western lands, trained by the Elves themselves. Legend has it that he grew up in Lletya and even that Elves in Prifddinas taught him the art of a bow. Even so, Karil was the best human when it comes to a crossbow. "The Elves game me provisions for the coming battle. I promised them I would bring back souvenirs. A few Mages' or Warriors' heads will suffice, I suppose."

"Indeed. I plan on a kill count of at least 500." Tern came back with a bet no self-respecting ranger could refuse.

"I'm going to try for 713. I've never really gotten anywhere over 600 and my last kill count was 579 Aviansie, so this is a big jump for me."

And with that, Tern sounded the horn that signaled the flight to Camelot. That's right – these Rangers can fly. Well, actually, they don't fly per say, they stole blueprints from the Gnomes so they can build larger and more aerodynamic Gnome Gliders. These reinforced gliders carried more people, and could hold more weight. The extra weight limit wasn't needed, though. Rangers already carry very little weight as is. To heighten this advantage, each Ranger was given a Super Energy potion to run longer, faster, and farther.


	12. Shattered Legends

Something stirred in the Palace. Every Warrior had left to Camelot, yet there was still a disturbance. Shadows had arrived at the entrance to the Regime's home – apparently robed shadows. Mages figured that if no one was home and the robes had been left behind, they were easy picking. They searched for obvious traps everywhere they could – especially in and around the Regime Vault. Even so…

Three of the five thieves didn't return to the Mage Guild - two of which didn't see the pressure pads on opposite sides of the room, and were immediately killed by swinging godswords. The third…nobody knows what happened to him. Most people theorize that he was killed by another godsword, but the likely cause of death was poison. Seems the Melee Regime poisoned the robes…

* * *

Rangers were the first to arrive at the scene of the battle. Due to their naturally silent nature, they immediately started setting traps. Obvious ones, classic ones, impassible ones, and even the leaf-covered-hole dotted Camelot and part of Seers' Village. As soon as they set the last leaf at the door to the Seers' Village bank, Mages just appeared out of nowhere. They had already started teleporting!

No hesitation was made in the Mages' strike. The first Mage to appear and be identified was Sage Ofrak – and that split second when he teleports didn't distract him. A single Fire Wave was cast – and felled a total of six Rangers. Even so, almost all of the Rangers were killed before the Warriors got there. At least half of the Mages died in the process; but not even half of the total attack force had arrived.

At the exact same point in time, the rest of the Mages and Rangers saw Camelot. But! That is not all – the Warriors jumped from their steeds and their heavily armored boots clashed against the ground. The battle hadn't even started and the Warriors already had the upper hand; ¼ the Rangers and Mages were already dead.

Now the fighting didn't just start – it went completely out of control.

Lord Bardur, raising his battle axe high, leapt into battle with both Ofrak and Tern. He had barely held off the Sage weeks earlier, but now he had Tern's arrows to worry about.

There was a moment as Bardur touched down when everything just stopped. It was as if a bomb had gone off in everyone's mind and just created silence and tension. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound. No one dared make the first strike, for whoever did would be struck down instantly. Whether it is by sword, arrow, or spell, it would be done.

All three Kings started in unbroken unison. Tern fired two poisoned arrows at each of his targets, both pierced Ofrak, but only one dented Bardur's dragon chainbody. In turn, Bardur, like a flash of lightning, slashed apart the clothing of both adversaries with his dragon dagger. The last to make his first move was Ofrak – smoke blitzes hit both targets flawlessly.

Behind Bardur was his army, from that point on led by his Generals. Same with the other two armies. All that were struck by Guthan's spear felt weakened as he grew stronger. Ahrim's spells sapped his enemies' very strength out of their bodies. Karil took advantage of the Ranger's agility and the enemies' slowness and used his bolts to drain the opponents' agility. Verac pierced every single armor, every prayer that dared stop him. Torag fought solely against Rangers, for he depleted their energy so fast that their energy potions were rendered useless. Dharok, the slowest of the bunch, inflicted enormous pain in his victims. Those who survived felt him get stronger as the tide of battle went against him.

The battle seemed to never end. Every now and then, King Arthur's men attempted to make a wall between the three tribes, until eventually Arthur himself had to make an appearance. It was then that the unknown and impossible happened.

Strikes from Bardur, Tern, and Ofrak all collided at one point – King Arthur. The resulting blast was enough to destroy four whole dimensions, but was concentrated and somewhat absorbed into a single object. He was prepared enough to live through the catastrophe, but the legendary blade was not. The leaders of the three tribes of the Combat Triangle shattered Arthur's sword – Excalibur.

Distantly, a being felt destroyed emotionally as her sword was brutally demolished trying to stop the inevitable event that was to come.

This was just the beginning of the end.


	13. Fall of Runescape

The Lady of the Lake collapsed in agony as Arthur's men fell one by one trying to stop the Triangle from destroying Runescape. However, it was this that ended up doing that what they tried to stop.

As the Knights of the Round Table died, the Lady of the Lake grew more and more uneasy, until she finally snapped. She flew up in the air to view the battlefield of Camelot. What she saw amazed her to no end.

She couldn't see the ground. So many bodies littered the dirt that no soil was visible. She couldn't stand it – she had to call in the only ones who could stop this. She had to call the Gods.

Saradomin was first to arrive. A quick survey of the damage and he almost dropped to the Human world. His Mages had de-evolved into war-mongering barbarians!

As he stared, Guthix, Bandos, and eventually Zamorak floated on by his side. Both were disappointed; Guthix's Rangers had upset the balance of beloved Gielinor, while Zamorak couldn't believe his Warriors were losing!

Zaros, Icthlarin, and the Devourer arrived soon afterwards. All in a line, they could do nothing but watch the Triangle kill more and more Humans. If they descended, surely Runescape would be utterly destroyed…

They resorted to not descending themselves, but sending legions of their own servants. Consisting mainly of Bloodvelds, Werewolves, and Goraks, Zamorak's army went first. Of course, they were pretty much killed off immediately, though they were not directly attacked. Armadyl appeared just as Bandos sent millions of Ogre variants such as Mogres and Jogres. Armadyl ordered masses of Aviansie down after him.

Neither was killed as quickly as Zamorak's, but were still easily taken care of. By now, the Warriors, Rangers, and Magers had banded together so that they could overwhelm the Gods. Zaros had no army, while Icthlarin and the Devourer sent a few Ugthanki camels. They let the camels live, because…well…nobody wants to own camels. Besides, they were no harm to them anyway. Guthix just stayed out of it, thinking that if they didn't intervene the balance could be maintained.

That didn't last long.

Nothing happened! As soon as the Gods' armies were gone, the fighting began again. Endless bodies fell; others clung to life as they crawled, managing to break a few legs in their death throes. This would not be tolerated; the Gods were left no choice. Even Guthix agreed – they were to descend on cue. That cue came very shortly when only the Generals and Leaders of each army were left.

Runescape was practically dead when the Gods revealed themselves. The overwhelming power had nowhere to go – some went into the sky, some absorbed in the air…some absorbed by the remaining Humans. At that, the Gods almost killed Runescape and the rest of its inhabitants just by descending to the land. So, the combined force of all the Generals was enough to match almost 3 Gods – therefore, the Generals took on Bandos, Icthlarin, and Guthix. The Leaders had a little more power – 5 Gods could be handled. Zamorak, Armadyl, the Devourer, Saradomin, and Zaros battled against Ofrak, Bardur, and Tern.

The Gods killed Runescape.


	14. The Spirits

No one survived. No Gods, no fish, no bugs…and certainly no humans, elves, gnomes…none of that. For a long time, Runescape was empty. That is, on one fateful day in the year 534 of the Sixth Age, a trickle of life was born. A single-celled bacterium that was to be called a Spirit Wolf appeared out of the tainted water. The next was Dreadfowl, then Spirit Spider years later. Soon, Runescape was populated by what is now called Familiars. These "Familiars" ranged greatly in size, shape, and attitude – the metal Minotaurs only wanted one thing: to fight. The Titans lugged their enormous masses all around the land lazily. The Evil Turnip tortured any who dared take a fork and knife within ten meters of it!

It took much longer for Humans to populate the world again. They made friends with the Spirit creatures, and tapped their previously untamed abilities. These abilities were trapped inside enchanted scrolls, then the Humans regained control of Runescape by creating another realm and sending the Spirits in through the portal. Only through a pouch, Spirit shards, and a magical charm could the Spirits be summoned. This was to be known as the Summoning skill.

Life soon returned to normal for the Runescapians. The only difference was the absence of Camelot and Gods to worship, and the only thing Humans knew about it was that the Fifth Age ended in year 169, and so the Sixth Age began – the Age of Man.

Well, look on the bright side:  
There isn't a Combat Triangle.


End file.
